


#ILoveYou

by wanheda_two_heda



Series: Kink Meme 2 [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Car Sex, Cheating, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I Love You, Minor Bellamy Blake/Echo, Minor Clarke Griffin/Wells Jaha, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanheda_two_heda/pseuds/wanheda_two_heda
Summary: Clarke's unhappy in her marriage with the man responsible for her father's death, and Bellamy is worried that if he leaves his loveless marriage with his business tycoon wife, he'll never be able to stay afloat on his public school teacher's salary. Neither can find the motivation to fight to break free until a text is sent and three little words slip out. Bellamy suddenly realizes that he's more to Clarke than he ever thought he could be, and that maybe money doesn't matter when you've got someone next to you to love you.Based on a kink meme prompt that said "Bellamy and Clarke are both cheating on their boyfriends/girlfriends with each other and end up falling in love so i love you sex" and I somehow turned it into 4K+ words of super sappy smut with feelings.





	#ILoveYou

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is, but I haven't posted in a while and y'all went at my shower sex fic like wild animals, so have this feelings/porny mess. Enjoy, or don't, it's up to you.

Wells is gone for three days on a grad field trip with his eighth graders, and his hands have been full with rowdy teenagers since the minute he’d left first thing in the morning, so he hasn’t texted her. She wasn’t complaining though. Her and Wells hadn’t been the same for over a year now, ever since he’d been drunk and driving the car the night that her father had died. She blames him, and he knows that she does, so he’s resigned himself to giving her space. In fourteen months, though, neither of them has been able to ask for a divorce, even if they sleep apart most nights. They’d been friends for almost two decades prior to the accident, and she thinks that he hopes that they’ll eventually be able to work through things. She just doesn’t have it in her to break his heart. She’s lounging on the couch, glass of wine in hand, just about to take her first sip when her phone vibrates.

 

 **[Bellamy Blake]       4:45PM**  
Hey, plans tonight? ****  
I saw Wells leave with his class this morning ;)

 **[Clarke Griffin]        4:45 PM**  
He’s gone until Wednesday  
Don’t you have a wife?

 **[Bellamy Blake]       4:46 PM**  
She’s in London all week closing a deal on a new company property  
Come over?

 

Clarke met Bellamy six months ago at Wells’ work Christmas party at the school, and they’d instantly hit it off. Bellamy’s wife, Echo, is sleeping with her boss, and Bellamy wants to leave her for it, but with her six-figure salary and his meager public school teacher’s one, Bellamy could never compete with her in court. He’s afraid that he’ll lose everything if he tries to fight her. They’d talked for nearly an hour before he’d taken her hand and led her to his classroom, sitting her on his desk and burying his head between her thighs, making her moan his name with a few quick slashes of his tongue. She’d fallen to her knees afterwards, taking him into her mouth and returning the favor.

Dancing around Wells and Echo hasn’t been easy, but they’re making it work. Clarke tells Wells that she needs more time at the studio, and Bellamy says that he needs to stay late at the school. Clarke says that she’s working with a new client, and Bellamy says that he needs to meet with parents about their children’s behavior. Clarke says that she was to work on a new commission that is ridiculously demanding, and Bellamy says that he’s flooded with corrections. Wells has never fought her on it, and Bellamy’s always been able to get away from his wife, most likely because she’s already sneaking around on him, and whether or not Wells knew that she was spending all this time with his colleague instead of working, she doesn’t know. Doesn’t care much, either.

 

 **[Clarke Griffin]        4:46PM**  
Miss me?

 **[Bellamy Blake]       4:49 PM**  
Yes

 

His answer, though it takes time to come through, doesn’t surprise her. They’ve always had more between them than just sex and casual hook ups. Bellamy is sweet. He’s caring and thoughtful. Her makes her feel loved and cared for.

 

 **[Clarke Griffin]        4:50 PM**  
Me too, babe  
But I’m drinking  
My place?

 

She takes a sip of her wine for good measure. Truth be told, she’s comfortable and already in her pyjamas, and she doesn’t want to get dressed and drive across town. She knows by the time alone that he’s probably just about to leave work.

 

 **[Bellamy Blake]       4:51 PM**  
Spoiled princess  
I suppose you want me to make you dinner, too?

 **[Clarke Griffin]        4:52 PM**  
Would you, though?  
You know you’re a great cook

 **[Bellamy Blake]       4:53 PM**  
Flattery will get you everywhere  
Anything else, Your Highness?

 **[Clarke Griffin]        4:53 PM**  
Oooh, I could use a foot massage ;)  
#ILoveYou

 

The message is gone before she even realizes what she typed. She feels the blood drain from her face, and she puts her wine down on the coffee table with a shaky hand. She waits for him to text her back and just ignore the slip, but he doesn’t, so she types out message after message to Bellamy but deletes them all before she sends them. She doesn’t know what to say. She wants to apologize or take it back or say that she doesn’t mean it, but she can’t. She can’t, because telling him that she doesn’t mean it feels like a lie.

After half an hour of silence, she starts pacing back and forth across her living room, her heart racing, thinking about what to do, and through it all, she just wants to cry. She hates the thought that she ruinedwhat they have. She’s picking up her phone to call him when there’s a knock at her door. She drops her phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh and walks to the door, wrenching it open, and there he is, grocery bag in hand.

“Hey,” he says without meeting her eyes. He gives her a chaste kiss and pushes into her apartment. She looks at him in shock as he walks to her kitchen. “How was your day?” he calls after her, and it’s a normal question for him, but he sounds tense, unnatural. “You get any work done?”

She swallows hard. “Yeah, I finished that painting I’ve been working on.”

“Good,” he says.

He doesn’t add anything else, and when she comes into the kitchen, he’s already at work. She leans against the doorframe and watches the muscles in his back work as he chops vegetables. His movements are rough and hard, not what she’s used to seeing from him, and she comes up behind him, slides her arms under his, and covers his hands with her own, slowing his chopping and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Sorry about the text,” she says against the fabric of his Henley.

He whirls around, and she takes a step back. His eyes look both torn and distant, his hands down at his sides.

“ _Are_ you sorry?” he stresses.

“Bellamy,” she says, her head falling.

“No, I wanna know. Are you sorry you love me or sorry you said it, because it’s not true?”

“No!” she says quickly. “No, that’s not it at all!”

“What is it then, Clarke?” he nearly shouts. “You’re sorry that you said it to _me_?”

“Bellamy!” she shouts, matching his tone. His eyes snap up to hers, and she slows her breathing. “Christ, give me a minute to talk! I’m not sorry that I said it, and I’m not sorry that I said it to you. I just didn’t want it to slip out like that! I don’t want to make things weird for you! I didn’t want to put any kind of pressure on you or freak you out, because I like what we have, and I don’t want to ruin it, but yeah. Yeah, Bellamy, I love you.”

He crowds her against the counter and crashes his lips against hers, his fingers gripping tight to the skin of her hips as he slides his tongue into her mouth, and all she can taste is him. He grinds his hips against hers, sending a shock of want and need straight to her cunt, and she moans his name. He lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs, looking up at her with a smile that makes her heart soar. Her arms wrap loosely around his neck, and he rests his head against her shoulder as he catches his breath.

“You should kiss me like that more often,” she says, her fingers playing with the soft black curls at his nape and scratching at his scalp. She feels the shiver that goes down his spine.

“If you want me to kiss you like that, I will kiss you like that everyday for the rest of your life, because god dammit, I love you, too. I love you, and I didn’t think that I’d ever be good enough to be more than a casual fuck to you so I didn’t say anything.”

She laughs, it’s almost a squeal, because she hasn’t been s happy in so long. Her arms tighten around his neck, and she wraps her legs around his waist, letting him pick her up, his hands on her ass, and she buries her face against his neck, still laughing and giddy. He chuckles and kisses her neck. When she lifts her head to look at him, her cheeks are flushed, her smile wide, and her eyes wild. She presses a smacking kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” she breathes, finally telling him for real.

“I love you, too,” he says, and it sounds like music to her ears.

He kisses her, one hand sliding up her back to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling it sharply. Her gasp gives his tongue access to her mouth, and he licks into her hungrily, his fingers massaging her neck as he takes her lower lip between his teeth and sucks it into his mouth. She tries to grind against him, his erection hard and obvious, but she can’t get the friction she needs.

“Bell,” she whines. “I need you.”

He pulls away and looks at her with pupils blown, almost as desperate as she is. His eyes roam over her body, taking in all of his options, but before he can do anything, she hops down, taking his hand and pulling him towards her bedroom. He stops before she’s even halfway down the hall.

“No,” he says, pulling her back to him. “No, I love you, and you’re mine, and I’m not fucking you in the bed where you sleep with _him_ ,” he says, nearly growling at the last word.

A rush of wetness floods out of her at his possessiveness, and he must know it, because he pushes her against the wall, his hands cupping her tits over her shirt, squeezing them and kissing the tops of them as he finally gives her his knee to grind down on.

“Studio?” she pants.

“No, if I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight, we need a bed. Come on,” he says, taking her hand and leading her out the door.

She barely has time to lock up the apartment behind her, dinner completely forgotten, before he continues his demanding kisses. She’d fuck him right there in the hallway if he’d let her, but she goes along with what he wants, if only because seeing him to happy makes her heart feel full. He holds her hand, their fingers twined, all the way to his car and only lets go to let her get in the car, coming around to the other side and linking their fingers before his seatbelt is even fastened. He whips out of the parking lot, eager to get to where he’s going.

Clarke sits in the passenger’s seat, barely able to contain how turned on and desperate she is for him. Her breaths are coming in shallow pants, and she tries to discreetly rub her thighs together for more friction, but he doesn’t miss a thing, even with his eyes locked on the road, speeding high above the limit. He smirks at her and looks over.

“Need something?” he teases.

“Fuck, Bell, I need you,” she moans.

“Can’t you see I’m driving, babe?” he says with a glint in his eye.

“Pull over,” she challenges.

“No can do,” he says, and she’s just about to growl with frustration when he adds, “but let me see if I can help you.”

He brings their joint hands, the back of hers against his palm, and places them right over her mound. A light ahead of them turns red, and the car slows. She looks at him, silently pleading, and he shoots her a knowing smile.

“Slip your pants off for me, love,” he orders, and she does as she’s told. “Take them off.”

She looks around at the other cars that surround them at the light. “But Bell –”

“No buts. Take them off so I can help you,” he says sweetly.

She slides her jeans down her legs without a second thought, her hand brushing against the soft cotton of her panties in the process. She’s completely soaked, and when she looks down, she can see the dark stain on the fabric right above her opening.

“Good girl,” he says, leaning over to nip at her neck just as the light changes.

He speeds ahead, his fingers pushing the fabric of her panties aside, and he gets right to the point. His fingers nearly slide right over her, and he hisses when he realizes exactly how badly she needs him.

“Fuck, princess. You’re fucking dripping right onto my car seat you’re so turned on. Jesus Christ, I’m never going to be able to drive without thinking about how hot you look right now.”

He uses two fingers and coats them in her juices before bringing them to his lips and sucking on them. He moans, and her eyes fall closed, her head rolling back as she’s unable to contain just how hot that looked.

“Fuck you taste so good when you’re this wet. You wanna taste princess?”

She swallows and nods. “Kiss me,” she begs, but he shakes his head.

“Can’t. Driving.”

Instead, he dips two fingers back into her pussy and brings them to her mouth, spreading the wetness all over her lips. Clarke’s tongue darts out and she licks her lips before sucking his fingers clean with wet slurping sounds. He groans, and she can see his dick straining against the denim of his pants.

“Bell, please,” she gasps, and he obliges.

He gathers her arousal on his fingers and easily slides two into her tight cunt, the heel of his palm coming to rest just over her clit. He wastes no time bringing her to the edge of her climax, but he stops just as she’s about to go over the edge when they reach another red light. He pulls his fingers out of her completely, and she whines at the loss of contact.

“Pull your shirt down and show me your tits, babe,” he says, and this time she doesn’t even think to object before she does just that. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Good girl, play with your tits, for me, okay? Give your tits some love and make yourself feel good, and I’ll make you cum.”

“Shit, okay, yeah,” she says as she tweaks her nipples.

His hand goes back between her thighs, and he slides three fingers into her this time, fucking into her fast and hard, his thumb on her clit. She doesn’t try to muffle the sounds she makes as she gets close, and Bellamy considers just stopping the car when he nearly drives off the road, but he keeps going. She climaxes with wilding moans and cries, jerking madly against his hand, and he slows his thrusts, the circles on her clit easing to a slight pressure as she rides his hand through her aftershocks, finally stilling with gasping breaths as Bellamy pulls into a hotel parking lot. She’s panting hard, leaning back against her seat, as she takes in where they are.

“I can’t walk in there like this,” she says. “They’re going to know exactly what just happened.”

“Take your time, and I’ll go get us a room,” Bellamy says. “Here, I’ll help you clean up.”

He ducks his head, and she arches her hips off her seat and the first brush of his tongue on the soft skin of her inner thigh. He licks her clean before sitting up and looking at her with a shit-eating grin. She manages an easy, sated smile.

“Catch your breath. I’ll be right back.”

He checks them in and comes back just as she’s getting out of the car. He presses her back against her closed door and kisses her soft and slow for a minute, his hand gentle against her hip. She can still taste herself on his mouth, but all she can feel is love for this man.

“Come on,” he says right by her ear as he takes her hand. “I’m not done with you.”

He leads her through the lobby and down a set of hallways to their room. Once inside, he ducks into the bathroom, and Clarke can hear the water start running. He emerges with his shirt off, and looks at her with a soft smile, holding out his hands for her. She places her palms in his, and he brings her into the bathroom, lifting her shirt over her head and sliding her pants down her legs. She unfastens his belt and pops the button on his jeans, pulling them down and helping him shuck off his boxers. She ties up her hair to keep it dry, and the walk into the warm steam of the shower. Bellamy lathers soap over her back and shoulders, letting the water run down her body and running his hands over her, stopping to massage her neck, her shoulders, that spot along her spine that always aches and pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck. She does the same for him, lathering him up and touching every inch of skin as she cleans him.

Once they’re clean and dry, Bellamy takes her hand and they walk to the bed where he pulls back the covers and lays her down. She smiles up at him as he hovers, completely naked, over her body, and he looks down at her, adoration all over his face. She brings her arms up around his neck, and leans up to meet his mouth, kissing him slowly, like she has all the time in the world. His fingers dance up and down her side, from the top of thigh to her shoulder and back, and he’s not in a hurry either, his mouth moving in time with hers, only opening when she slides the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips. He lets her have control.

Eventually, his body becomes too heavy, and though he’s content to keep kissing Clarke Griffin for hours, he has to let his body lie on top of hers. He’s always worried about his weight being too much for her small frame, but she only sighs happily at the weight, spreading her legs to make room for him. He falls into the cradle of her thighs and goes right back to exploring her mouth. He breaks the kiss after what feels like ages, pressing feather light kisses all over her face before tracing the curve of her jaw, and nosing at her chin to get her to tilt her head up. Knowing that they have days, he lets himself suck a searing bruise into her neck, finally marking her as his own after months of wanting to. He laves his tongue over the mark, easing the stinging, and then kisses along her collarbone before leaving another mark in the soft creamy flesh at the top of her breast. She sighs, sounding so relaxed in a way she hasn’t been in a long time, and leaves her neck arched back, completely exposed to him. He covers ever inch of skin in loving kisses before making his way down between the valley of her breasts, kissing along her sternum, all the way to down to her belly button, and then pausing.

She looks down at him, and he looks like a mix between mischievous and just plain happy, that she can’t help her smile growing bigger. He ducks back down, his hand going down to wrap around her thigh and sliding it over his shoulder as he makes his way to her pussy. He spreads her labia with his thumbs and doesn’t warn her before licking a broad strip from her cunt to her clit. She gasps loudly, her hands fisting against the sheets. One arm comes up, his forearm resting across her hips and holding her down as he licks her torturously slow, pressing barely-there kisses to her clit every so often. His finger teases her opening, and she doesn’t even have it in her to be embarrassed when she feels slick arousal run out of her. He replaces his mouth with his thumb on her clit and moves down to lick around and over her aching cunt. When she begs him for more, he inserts his tongue inside her, swirling it around before pulling it back out and doing it again and again. When her walls tighten around his tongue, he stops the quick circles on her clit and instead presses down hard, sending her over the edge again with his name tumbling past her lips.

He slides back up her body, the head of his cock bumping against her still sensitive clit and she hisses before licking the taste of herself out of his mouth. He pauses, propped on one elbow beside her, his other hand on her waist, and just looks at her wordlessly, flushed and still breathing hard beneath him.

“What?” she asks, as he breathing becomes more even.

“Nothing,” he says, with a kiss to her shoulder.

“Tell me,” she urges, and he just smiles at her, leaning down to kiss her shoulder again while keeping eye contact.

“Nothing, it’s just – I realized I was fucked when I saw you like this and I stopped thinking _shit, she’s hot_ and started thinking _wow, she’s beautiful_.”

She rolls into him to kiss him, and he ends up on his back, holding her on top of him.

“God, you’re such a dork. I’m so fucking gone on you,” she says, and he laughs, but it’s cut off when her small hand wraps around his throbbing cock.

She presses it flat against his stomach and straddles him, sliding his dick between her labia and pressing her hands to his chest for balance as she glides over him from base to tip and back. He lets out a strangled moan, and she leans down to swallow the sound.

“Fuck, Clarke,” he groans.

“Anything you want, babe,” she says, and rises to her knees to position him at her entrance.

She slowly sinks down on to him, used to his size by now, but not used to this position. She usually loves the different positions she and Bellamy try, but tonight, she needs to be in control, because she wants this to be slow, and she wants to see his face throughout. With her hands propped against his chest, she begins to rise, and then sinks back down onto him her eyes watering with how good he feels when he hits a certain spot inside of her just right. His hands on her hips guide her up and down, but just as they start to find a rhythm, Bellamy pauses.

“One sec,” he says with a quick kiss.

He pushes all the pillows but one away, which he props against the headboard, and slides them back so that he’s sitting and she’s in his lap, their faces at the same height, and his chest pressed to hers. It’s like he can read her mind, know how close she needs him to be. He kisses her, his tongue darting lazily into her mouth as he starts bouncing her in his lap, meeting her every thrust. When their movements start to get messy, both nearing release, Clarke’s head falls back, her tits bouncing wildly. Bellamy latches his mouth onto one, his tongue flicking over the hard bud, teeth flashing against her skin, and his out hand comes between them, fingers going to her clit.

“I love you,” Clarke pants as her walls start to clench around his cock.

She repeats the phrase with every thrust, her pitch rising higher and higher until she comes with Bellamy’s hand on her clit, his mouth on her nipple, screaming “I love you I love you Iloveyou _IloveyouIloveyou_.”

With two more thrusts, Bellamy reaches his own releasing, his hot load shooting into her pussy, making her aftershocks even more delicious. Bellamy lays a sweaty, exhausted Clarke back on the bed, kissing her salty skin, whispering how her loves her between every press of his lips. They fall asleep shortly after, limbs tangled together and completely spent, Clarke curled into Bellamy’s side, her hand across his chest and Bellamy’s palm flat against her spine.

When she wakes, it’s dark in the room, but Clarke can see Bellamy lying on his back, his head propped on one arm, the other arm still around her.

“Hey, babe,” she says with a sweet kiss to the side of his pectoral.

He turns to look at her, and his eyes are sad. She begins to worry, her heart starting to race, but he takes his hand out from behind his head, turning onto his side to face her and brushing his hand through her mess of blonde waves.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, and she feels her heart break, tries to pull away, but he catches her hand before she can pull it off his chest so that he can hold it over his heart. “No, not us,” he says, reading her mind. “I don’t think I could ever stop what we have. But I can’t do _this_ ,” he says, eyes wandering around the hotel room. “I can’t sneak around, and only see you every now and then, and then leave you and go home to Echo. I can’t. Not when I know what it feels like to be loved by you. So I’m going to file for divorce.”

“But Bellamy –”

“No, it’s okay. Money isn’t everything. I don’t need anything she has to offer, anyway. Plenty of people live just fine on a teacher’s salary. Besides, not even all the money in the world is worth more than you. So I’m going to leave her. And I’m not asking you to leave Wells. You don’t have to, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to decide, but I’m not going home to Echo.”

“Bellamy Blake,” she says, and he turns to meet her eyes, cocking an eyebrow at her for her to continue. “I’ve never been so happy in my life.” He ducks his head to hide his smile, but it’s so wide that it could light the entire room. “I’ve never had a real reason to ask Well for a divorce, never really wanted to believe that it’s over, but right now, I could just never go back to that apartment again, and stay here with you, and have everything I need. I love you, Bellamy.”

He kisses the tip of her nose. “I love you, too, Princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do **actual** writing in my spare time! Come find me at [@pascale_writes](https://twitter.com/pascale_writes) or let's hang out on [Tumblr](http://youleftme-clarke.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, comments and kudos, my dudes, comments and kudos.


End file.
